Out Of My Cage
by isyourcermetgoingtogrow
Summary: I saw everything; old ladies, pregnant teenagers, businessmen, whores – businessmen with whores – father and sons, cab drivers, sports stars, your next door neighbour, the typical goths, skaters and pretty boys, everything, really. I was sure I had seen it all. Until the first day I saw him. Coffee shop AU. Language warning. Garrett/Carlisle.
1. Chapter 1

_**Thank you my beautiful beta THOSEstories for my short noticed request! Love you.**_

 _ **Annnd thisiswhereilivenow and guardian-of-the-knitting, here you go (finally). Love you guys too.**_

 **AU of course. In a coffee shop. Because I've read too many band fanfictions. Oh and language warning. And updates every Friday. WOO!**

 **Garrett POV**

I was happy. Or so I tried to tell myself. All I had to my name was a coffee shop and a few cheap fucks, but I was happy. If happiness wasn't judged by possessions, love, money or personal worth, but rather by self-fulfilment, then I could be considered happy. I didn't rely on others but had a few good friends for when the need arose, the local bar satisfied my sex drive and the window at the front of my shop provided the perfect opportunity for my favourite hobby; people watching.

Being situated directly across from the local hospital meant that people from all walks of life moved up and down the street. I saw everything; old ladies, pregnant teenagers, businessmen, whores – businessmen with whores – father and sons, cab drivers, sports stars, your next door neighbour, the typical goths, skaters and pretty boys, everything, really. I was sure I had seen it all.

Until the first day I saw him.

My throat became tight the moment he smiled, glancing up at someone who'd accidently knocked into him. They scowled back but it didn't deter him, he still smiled and sat on the step near the road, far more gracefully than I expected. His movements were fluid and I couldn't look away from the boy who cant have been more than twenty. He was gorgeous; everything about him shone so brightly, almost as if he was filled with light. Perfect smile, perfect posture, perfect figure, perfect…he was just perfect. He glanced up at my window suddenly, almost like he felt my eyes on him, but I didn't look away, almost hoping he'd see me. He didn't acknowledge it if he did, just looked down again. The way the sun shone through his hair made it seem lighter than I'm sure it actually was, giving the blond a gold hue as it fell over his face, his elegant fingers trying to push it back again. My golden boy. I wished I knew his name; it would have to be pretty too. As pretty as he was.

I hadn't realised how long I had been staring until the man in front of me cleared his throat and I found myself unusually flustered, burning my fingers several times while I hurriedly poured his drink, shoving his piece of cake at him and wishing him a nice day as quickly as I could just so I could return to watching _him_.

He smiled again as one of those little brown birds fluttered close to him – pigeons? I didn't know. The common ones – and tossed it a piece of food. As his body shook slightly I imagined him laughing and tried to picture the sound, my entire body longing to hear it. _Maybe I could make him laugh_. Every innocent thought I'd had about him flew out the window as he slid his finger into his mouth, presumably to sooth a scrape, but all I could think of was what else he could wrap his lips around…what else he might prefer to suck on. Suddenly I found myself hating what I found cute minutes before – long sleeves prevented me from seeing more of the golden boy, depriving me of even the most childish of fantasies, just touching him. It didn't stop me from dreaming though. I would undress him several times before the end of the day, each getting more and more erotic. Maybe this golden boy would also be a perfect kisser, maybe he went to the gym, maybe pulling off his shirt would be easy but the zipper on his pants would stick, requiring me to gently tug it down with my teeth-

"Garrett."

I jumped, the cup in my fingers falling to the ground and smashing against the tiles. "Fuck, Alistair, warn me next time, will you?" I grumbled.

"I've been standing here for five minutes, dickhead," he snickered, pushing me. "Who are we staring at, anyway?" He lent over the counter to peer out the window.

"No one. Fuck off."

He smirked. "I didn't know sparrows amused you so thoroughly, my friend."

So that's what those damn birds were called. "Shut up." Feeling oddly possessive, I pressed my lips against his, trying to distract him from staring at my boy.

He shoved his tongue into my mouth before pulling back. "The cute little medic, huh? Your next Friday night? What if I get there first?"

"The cute little medic is mine," I hissed, kissing his neck anyway.

"Hmm, he's kinda hot. You'd better hurry up, Garrett."

The kiss turned into a bite, electing a yelp from him as he shoved me back into the wall.

"Don't be a fuckhead."

"Don't touch him until I'm done, deal?" The growl came out harsher than I expected, but Alistair didn't flinch.

"Fine. He'll be begging for some decent sex by the time you're done with him, anyway." He grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me closer again. "You on lunch break yet?"

"Of course." I flicked the open/closed sign, closing the door and stopping any customers from entering.

"Good." He didn't even wait until we'd made it up stairs into the living area of my building; apparently the staircase was far enough and his hands were already undoing my belt. "You're going to forget all about that cute medic boy after this, trust me," he promised, his tongue against my skin.

"Fuck me…" I hadn't meant it as instructions, but his hand down the back of my pants was enough to make my brain scatter.

"Of course," he laughed anyway, bringing our lips together again. "What did you think I was going to do? Take your temperature?"

Cheeky bustard.

Alistair and I weren't lovers. He was my best friend and there were certain…benefits to our relationship. Spontaneous sex was one of them. A drinking partner on a Friday night was another. It was just that being in a relationship was off the table for both of us, and picking up a girl – or boy for that matter – at a bar wasn't always convenient. At least things with him were exciting; there were no set roles or rules, it was always just whatever we felt like doing. And despite what anyone said, it was never awkward in the morning; Alistair was still Alistair, and I was still me. No big deal.

Except Alistair didn't make me forget about my golden boy. In fact it was quite the opposite. I found myself picturing him instead, pretending that it was him I was showering with, him that I was making coffee as we pretended nothing had happened, him that I was looking out the window with at an empty step…I missed the boy I had never spoken to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Teeny tiny chapter this week, sorry guys. I probably post another Monday/tuesdayish to make up for it. Happy reading!**

The next day I found myself longing for lunch time, a time that I usually dreaded seeming as how busy the coffee shop then became. But today I didn't care. I just wanted to see my golden boy again.  
Sure enough, he settled where he had the day before, carefully picking at whatever he was supposed to be eating. More of it was given to the birds than in his mouth, but he didn't seem to care. And all I could concentrate on was what I could feed _him_. Good god he was cute. Made even cuter by the way he seemed so blissfully unaware of the true intentions of those around him; smiling at anyone whose eye he accidently met. So full of light.

As the days turned into weeks I stared at my golden boy more and more. I learnt his shift times. I googled the titles of the books he read, studied his eating habits, the way he walked, how he sat, his continuous fidgeting – all in the name of trying to construct a realistic fantasy of what it would be like when I had him squirming underneath me. He'd better fucking smile like that for me.  
The more time that passed, the more detail I needed. When he answered his phone one day, I couldn't resist the opportunity. Leaving my shop, I tried to walk as casually as I could across the road, continuing my path behind him, probably closer than the average person would have, but I _had_ to hear his voice; I was desperate.

"-last exam is on Monday," he was telling the person on the other end, pausing to listen to their reply.

I could have died; his voice was so sweet and his laugh was so pretty and I could have listened to it for hours – preferable while he screamed my name as I pushed him over the edge. Suddenly I found myself running back to my shop, texting Alistair to get the fuck over here now and refusing to let anyone else in. As soon as he was in reach – over half an hour later, the bustard – I slammed him up against the wall, ripping his belt undone.

"Oh, so you're dominant now, are you?" he teased, grinning.

"Shut the fuck up," I quipped, pushing myself up against him. I'd never wanted to fuck anybody as badly as I did right now. Except it was my golden boy I wanted. Not Alistair.


	3. Chapter 3

**If you're useless at updating clap your hands (I'm the only one clapping sorry guys)**

 **Garrett is an asshole – sorry for that too – but its all in the name of character development, I promise.**

He was late today and I felt my heart deflate at the thought of not being able to see him. The coffee machine couldn't hold my attention and I glanced out the window every few seconds in search of him. But he wasn't there. The step was empty. Why on earth not seeing a complete stranger from a distance could ruin my day, I had no idea. He probably wasn't coming because it was fucking pouring with rain. I'm a fucking moron.

Just as I had given up, the hospital door opened and my golden boy ran down the steps. He didn't stop until he was further along than normal, choosing to fall to the ground against the wall in the alleyway instead of sitting where he usually did. He hugged his legs, burying his face in his knees and choking on violent sobs. Everyone just walked past him, taking no notice. The ones that did looked away in disgust. He was soaked to the skin and I had no doubt he was freezing.

I flicked the closed sign on the door, effectively stop people from coming as I made two coffees. Against my better judgment, I grabbed an umbrella and blanket. Stumbling across the road in the rain and trying to carry two full cups of scalding liquid while juggling an array of other items wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had.

"You okay, buddy?" I asked cautiously, standing in front of him and holding the umbrella over his head.

He nodded and fell silent, risking a careful glance up at me through long eyelashes. _Fucking hell_.  
More awkward than ever, I knelt on the ground next to him. "Here, this might warm you up again." I forced a smile, pushing the cub into his fingers.

He wrapped both of his hands around it, holding it like a little kid would. "T-thanks…"

"My name's Garrett," I told him stupidly.

"…I-I'm C-Carlisle…" he whispered, studying the cup.

I struggled to come up with something to say now, unable to look away from his face as he avoided eye contact. He was unbelievably gorgeous completely drenched and my mouth was suddenly dry. "You work at the hospital?" Obviously, dickhead. "You're a doctor?"

The questions made him stiffen, shying away from me further. "…S-supposed t-to b-be…"

"What'd you mean?" Unable to stop myself, I reach forward to push his hair off his face, mostly just wanting to touch him.

Carlisle cringed under my hand, not liking the contact at all. "I-I'm training…it w-was my first day in ICU a-and I screwed u-up…I-I failed…" His words were broken as he started to hyperventilate and he'd dropped the cup he shook so badly, the coffee pooling at our feet.

"Let's go inside, okay? Do you want to come and get warm?" Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders did little to stop his trembling.

He nodded cautiously, letting me pull him to his feet. I kept my arm around his waist as we crossed the road, aware that he was stumbling blindly and not really watching where he was going. Once we were inside my shop again, I let him go. He hugged himself tightly, shivering even though the air was warm, still hyperventilating and almost in tears again. He was going to make himself sick if he didn't stop soon, and I cringed a little at the thought of having to clean up vomit. Definitely not my forte.

"You alright?" I asked skeptically, trying to interrupt him and get him to calm down. It was awkward now, and I kind of wanted him to just leave…and not throw up on my floor.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry…" he stuttered, desperately trying to wipe his face dry. Pretty pointless seeming as his sleeves were soaked.

No, fuck me; I didn't want him to go. "Do you want a drink?" I moved behind the counter as something to do.

"N-no…t-thank you…" He choked again, failing at swallowing a whimper and looking at the floor, unable to meet my eye.

My heart melted. Okay, so my interest in him wasn't entirely pure, but he was fucking adorable and I couldn't help myself. "What happened?" I reached over and took his hands in mine, running my thumb over the backs of his fingers and frowning at how cold he was.

"I-I-I l-lost her…S-she w-was the first one I-I couldn't…save…" His voice shook almost as violently as his hands.

I tried to put the pieces together in my mind, clueless to what he was referring to. I felt my eyes widen when I realised what he meant; I'd gotten myself into something I really didn't want to be in. "You mean, you lost your first patient?"

Carlisle nodded slowly, still not looking up.

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ _How the fuck was I supposed to get him in bed from here?_ "Oh, um, that sucks."

"S-she had a little kid…" he mumbled, wiping his face again.

 _It's fucking pointless, Carlisle,_ I thought again as I watched his action. He didn't seem to care. I ran my thumb across his cheek, marvelling at how soft his skin was as well as wiping away the wetness.

"N-now he doesn't have a mother…"

"He'll survive. Not having a mother wont kill him-" I cut myself off when I saw the expression on his face, knowing I'd stepped in it.

"I-I think I s-should go…" He turned away from me, making for the door.

"No!" When I shouted he winced and I chastised myself for it; there was no way I was getting in his pants if I carried on like this. Still though, he was confused, and the ones in self-doubt were always easier. "Come have a drink. I cant send you out there like this."

He unwilling came and sat in front of me and I tried to ignore the way his uniform clung to him. Although, I think I would have liked them better if it were off. "W-why are you doing this?" His question was almost a whisper.

 _Because I want to fuck you senseless._ "Because you're obviously upset, and I want you to feel better."  
"That's a first," he mumbled, looking away.

This was going to be easier than I thought; upset, confused and lonely. It was almost a fucking field day. "Just because I don't know you doesn't mean I'm going to let you sit in the rain and drown in your own tears, Carlisle."

He said nothing, taking a careful sip of the drink I handed him.

"Do you want to get dry?" I asked after a while. The sooner he was out of those clothes the better.

"Um…" He hesitated before cautiously agreeing, hopefully not questioning my motives.

"Come." I grabbed his hand, pulling him up the stairs and into the living area of the building. "You must be freezing, yes? How about I warm you up?" Getting his jacket off him was easier than I thought it was going to be, as was pulling off his shirt. He started to fidget when I tugged down his pants, but I ignored the movement; he wasn't outright stopping me, so maybe he was okay with it. Or so I tried to kid myself. Coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to undress me irritated me a little, and I pushed him back against the bed more roughly than I meant to, accidently making him emit a worried squeak. His eyes were wide and frightened but he wasn't trying to get away or tell me to stop. He can't have _hated_ it then. I was right; he was fucking beautiful with his clothes off, still not able to lose the innocently cute aspect he had when he was fully dressed. "Stay still, okay? Then it wont hurt," I instructed, pulling him closer to me

He stayed perfectly still and didn't make a sound throughout the entire process. He didn't move until I threw his uniform at him, and then he hurriedly got dressed, getting into wet fabric faster than I would have thought possible.

"When does your next shift start?" I asked, glancing over at him.

His hair was still messy and his face slightly flushed as he nervously bit his lip. Holy shit I wanted to kiss him again. "…S-six…" It was four thirty. I didn't usually like keeping them around, but there wasn't any point in being rude and throwing him out now.

"Do you want to get some tea? Surely you want to eat before you go back?" He had already eaten – sort of – but I wasn't about to point that out.

"Um…I'm s-supposed to be meeting some o-of my co-workers…T-they'll notice if I d-don't go…" He started to edge toward the door, glancing from me to the rain.

Thank fucking god. "Okay then, have fun-"

Before I'd even finished my sentence he'd bolted, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Funnily enough, my fascination with Carlisle didn't go away. I still watched for him every day, still found myself smiling when I saw him and still wanted to be close to him. I refused to believe what this actually meant; I wanted to date the cute little medic. Except my golden boy was gone; now he was messy, disorganised and…dark…He didn't smile at anyone anymore and even though his light was still there, it as rather smothered now.

A week later and I couldn't fucking stand it anymore. I _had_ to hear his voice again or I was going to fucking die. As I slowly made my way over to him I found myself scared of rejection for the first time ever. He _couldn't_ say no or else I was going to vomit.

"Hey, Carlisle?" I sat next to him on the step as he took a bite of something that I couldn't name for the life of me. The mouthful was so tiny there wasn't a point in eating, really.

He jumped immediately, ripping away from me and standing abruptly. "No."

"No what? You don't even know what I was going to say," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. If it had been anyone else, I would have given up by now.

"I don't want to…" He'd dropped the container in his hurry to get away from me and I righted it again, still trying to place what he was eating, the cook in me wanting to recreate it.

"Look, I was just going to ask you if you wanted to go out for drinks or something later-"

"I'm not a whore!" He'd drawn the attention of several people around us now but he seemed oblivious.

"What?"

"I'm not a whore," he repeated through clenched teeth, watching his feet.

"Why would I think-"

"Because last time you asked me if I wanted a drink you- you- you…" He trailed off, still refusing to look at me.

 _Oh shit._ "I meant like a date, Carlisle. I'm asking you out," I clarified. "I'm sorry that-"

"I don't like you. Stay away from me." He folded his arms tightly, sinking his teeth into his lip.

"Carlisle-"

"Leave me alone," he snapped, slowly backing away, never taking his eyes off me as if I might attack him.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I spun around, retreating back home. I didn't fucking want him anyway.

Except I did. I really fucking did. Even more so when he didn't sit in his usual spot and I couldn't even see him. He kept me awake at night, caused me to burn my fingers several times a day and made lunch time painful. I fucking _missed_ him and I didn't know a single fucking thing about him.

It was one AM now, and I knew that he finished his shift around about this time. I forced myself to stay in bed and not watch for him. That would be getting fucking creepy.

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside; shouting followed by the squeal of tires. Curiosity got the better of me and I had to look. I wished I hadn't; I wasn't sure whether the body on the pavement was dead or alive but I couldn't call myself human and not at least check. Pulling on pants and a jacket, I ran downstairs and across the road, feeling very, very sick when I got there. He wasn't covered in blood, so that was a positive, but no one was unconscious for no reason.

"Carlisle…Can you hear me? Squeeze my fingers, okay?" I pleaded, slipping my hand into his.  
He didn't respond in any way and his breathing was very shallow. The contrast between my golden boy and the black tarseal was agony; the light and dark meeting. Except Carlisle's light was always dimed now, no longer shining as it once did, and I wanted to cry; I knew it was me who had taken it.

"Please…" We were literally about thirty metres from the hospital but I felt completely helpless, unsure what to do with him. I slid my arms around him and pulled him upright a bit, getting him to lean against me. I wasn't sure whether it was the movement itself or the pain the movement caused, but he stirred a little, neither resisting nor helping me. "Carlisle? Where are you hurt?"

He gingery touched the side of his face, wincing as his fingers met his skin.

"Wake up…"

He glanced up at me for a second before squeezing his eyes shut again against the shallow streetlights. "…Garrett..?"

"Yeah, where are you hurt? Is anything broken? Do you think you can walk to A&E?" I bombarded him with questions.

"…N-not g-going…"

"Not going where?"

"H-hospital…"

"Carlisle, you have to! You've been hurt."

"…T-they wont…h-help me…" His words were starting to become clearer now but the colour was draining from his face.

"But-"

"…T-they don't l-like me m-much…hospitals c-corrupt…"

"You're not making sense. How hard did you hit you head? Carlisle…"

"I-I'll just g-go home…it's okay…" He started to get up, losing his balance immediately and starting to black out again.

"You cant go anywhere," I argued, grabbing him and holding him against me, sort of hugging him.

"You need to see a doctor."

"I cant…the bus will be here soon…I can just go home and…" His legs buckled and he started to fall again, his body going pretty much limp even though he was still vaguely conscious.

"Carlisle, can I take you back to my flat? Is that okay? Just so you can sleep? I promise I won't touch you."

He was too out of it to answer me - let alone actually move - so I carefully picked him up, shocked by how light he actually was, almost as if he was made of porcelain. It was easy getting him inside and upstairs, even easier getting him to lie down. I wrapped a blanket around him, gently brushing his hair off his face to examine the bruising, his skin already faintly blue. Realising there was nothing I could do for him like this, I fell into bed, asleep within minutes.

Carlisle wasn't awake when I got up and I had a fierce internal debate over whether or not to wake him. In the end, I thought I'd better in case he had someone looking for him.

"Carlisle." I cringed a little as I nudged his shoulder, remembering how fragile he felt when I was holding him last night. I instantly regretted every filthy thought I'd had about him; he was way too sweet for that.

He mumbled something and reached up to touch my fingers, wanting me to let go. When I complied he touched the bruising on his cheek again, flinching.

"You okay?" I ran my fingers through his hair, shifting it off his face and marvelling at how soft it was. How had I not noticed any of this last time I was with him? He was so…so…so _pretty_ and I found myself studying him, noticing every little detail down to the way his clothing sat and how perfect his skin was. "Carlisle? How are you feeling?"

Suddenly I was confronted with wide blue eyes, dark with terror. _He was scared of me. I had scared him._ "Did you- did we- did I- we-" he panicked, not quite able to sit up and close to tears.

"No! No, we haven't. You got hurt last night, remember?" I pushed, desperate for him to believe me and see me as something other than the monster that I acted like.

He held his hand against his face again. "Y-yes…"

I nodded, relieved. "You passed out and you didn't want me to take you to the hospital but you couldn't go anywhere by yourself and I don't know where you live," I explained, trying to show there were no motives behind my actions.

He nodded slowly, looking down and then back up to meet my gaze. "…I cant…I don't want to do that again, Garrett…" he whispered, almost inaudible. "I-I'll have to find some other way to repay you because I cant- I don't want to-I-" He forced a deep breath, silently pleading with me.  
"No, no, no, no, no. I don't want you to do anything, okay? I just didn't want you to get hurt anymore." For once it wasn't a lie; I was sure seeing this boy in tears again was going to be the death of me.

"T-that's what you said last time…" He glanced away.

"I know and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Carlisle. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just-" _I'm a selfish fucking asshole._ Only on seeing the expression on his face did I realise what I'd actually done; I'd raped him. No fucking wonder he was scared of me. I'd hurt him; I was surprised that he could stand being in the same room as me. "I'm so, so sorry."

He didn't look comforted, just petrified and a little dizzy.

"Do you want something to eat-"

"No," he answered quickly. "I-want-to-go-home." It came out as one word and I knew sorry wouldn't cut it.

I stepped back. "Okay, you can go any time you like. You're not my prisoner, Carlisle."

He jumped up, trying to get away, but he stumbled and started to fall seconds later.

I grabbed him again, ignoring when he drew away from me and made him sit down again. "Dizzy?"

"Y-yeah…"

"I'm going to get you a drink, okay?"

He slowly agreed, taking the cup from me once I returned and obediently taking a sip of it.

"How's your head?"

It took him a moment to answer and I found myself self-conscious as he considered how he was going to respond. I could almost picture the thoughts running through his head; if he said he was dizzy I would know he couldn't run from me and I would attack him again, if he said he was tired, I would wait until he fell asleep and…I couldn't even think about him like that anymore. It seemed wrong on so many levels.

"It's okay," he told me instead. Obviously a lie. "I-I think I'm going to go to work now…" As he moved he never took his eyes off me. Still though, he didn't quite have the coordination to walk just yet, and tripped immediately.

Again I pushed him back, worried when he squeezed his eyes shut to try and get his bearings. "Are you going to pass out?"

"No!" His voice was too loud in the small room and he jumped at the sound of it. "I-I mean…no…I'm fine, really." The way he held onto my fingers so tightly suggested otherwise but I didn't think he knew he was doing it, and I just liked holding his hand. Running my thumb over his palm was enough to make him drop my hands and I sighed, a little frustrated.

"I'm going to get you an icepack, alright? I'll be back in a minute."

He flinched back when I reached up to press it against the side of his face, forcing me to hand it to him instead. Even then he was cautious.

"Carlisle, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm sorry about what happened and I know that it doesn't mean anything to you and I'm not asking forgiveness, but I am sorry."

He stayed quiet, not acknowledging that I'd spoken in anyway.

Unable to stand his silence, I continued. "I don't know why I did that- I sort of knew you didn't want to but I fucking ignored it and I hurt you and I'm sorry. I'm really, really fucking sorry, Carlisle. I'm a fucking asshole; I guess I'm just used to people wanting to do that with me because I'm- I'm- I'm…" I had no fucking idea what I was; it just seemed to happen. The only reason I talked to strangers was for sex, and I usually got what I wanted.

"Hot?" he finished my sentence unexpectedly, covering his mouth immediately. "I mean- I didn't mean- um…" He cut himself off as his face became more and more red, studying his lap to avoid looking at me.

I grinned, pleased with unplanned compliment no matter how embarrassed Carlisle was about it. Mortification suited him; he was goddamn cute like this. "That wasn't what I was going to say, but I'll take it," I laughed, squeezing his hand again. "You really nocked your head, didn't you?"

Carlisle swallowed thickly, unable to meet my eye.

"You _sure_ you won't let me take you out for drinks?"

"I-I'm sure…" That was better than 'I don't like you', I guess.

"Girlfriend?" I guessed, deflating slightly. Of course that's what it was; he wasn't fucking gay in the first place, dickhead.

But he shook his head.

"Boyfriend then?" I tried to keep my tone neutral, but the prospect of it excited me a little.

"No…"

"Then, why?" _I mean aside from the fact I forced you to have sex with me._

"…I don't date…"

"Why not?"

"Because I never ask anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to." He was becoming wary of my questioning now but I couldn't stop myself.

"What if someone asked you?"

"No one ever does."

I contemplated that for a moment before continuing. "What if I'm asking you?"

"Then no."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You're straight?" I guessed.

"Maybe you're not my type."

"Then what is your type? Women?" If it didn't involve a sex change, I would do absolutely anything to be whatever he wanted.

"…I don't know."

"How can you not know?" I teased. Okay, I'm a jackass. "Wouldn't you have figured that out with your first girlfriend, ah, or boyfriend?"

"I haven't had one."

"One what? Girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"Either. I haven't had…anyone."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Then why no dates?"

"Because…I-I don't know…"

"Let me buy you a drink."

"You serve drinks for a living," he countered, irritated now.

"Dinner then." Seeing what he was about to say, I added "It doesn't have to be a date. Consider it part of an apology."

"I don't want to it."

"Let me buy you dinner and then if you never want to see me again, you don't have to," I reasoned, practically pleading.

"…Okay…" He nodded slowly.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

Fuck yes.


End file.
